


The Wolf of Winterfell

by holymemebatman (gaysandcrime)



Series: the ludicrous fairytale au [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Beauty and the Beast Elements, Bronn is a little bitch sometimes but a surprisingly good friend, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, I'm sorry I'm so bad at tagging, Implied Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, Somehow a bit of Edgar Allen Poe snuck its way into this, The Author Regrets These Tags, Tyrion wants an adventure, i'd apologize but i'm not really sorry, we finally find out where the tyrells have gotten to (whoohoo)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 22:08:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12735282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaysandcrime/pseuds/holymemebatman
Summary: ft a wolf in self-inflicted exile, a dwarf who likes to read, and a surprisingly witty squad of underrated characters who are the only reason to read this ridiculous story in the first place.





	The Wolf of Winterfell

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes, waarging can go wrong. Sometimes, a castle can cast a spell. And sometimes a dwarf is inspired by someone else's happily ever after.  
> (the one where sansa is the beast, tyrion is belle and bronn/the starks/everybody else are assorted sidekicks)
> 
> This is a crack!fic. You've been warned.

**Prologue: the one with a beautiful party, some unexpected party crashers and a rose which is not a rose (or is it?)**

 

This is the story of how the eldest child to the Warden of the North became one with her wolf. This is the story of a Little Prince and his desire for adventure. This is the story of how, ten months after the wedding of Good King Jaime and Good Queen Brienne, the Royal Dwarf and the Queen in the North meet, fight, drink, and fall in love. 

And like all good stories, it begins with Once Upon A Time...

* * *

 

The music was festive and the mood joyful as Sansa watched her fellow Lords and Ladies dancing, drinking and making merry. Each person was dressed more elaborately than the last, each Lady adorned in as many jewels as was possible, each Lord in silks and fabrics so fine and rich one would expect to see them upon a King. The beautiful ballroom of Winterfell was filled with such riches and splendor that Sansa could not help but feel pleased. She sipped from her ornate silver wine goblet and let her lips tug upward in a smile.

"My Lady, someone has just arrived and wishes to speak with you." The soft voice of her advisor Lord Varys whispered into her ear and caused a slight frown to mar her beautiful features.

She turned to face him and raised her eyebrows. "And who wishes to speak with me so urgently that they must interrupt my party, my lord?"

Lord Varys only shrugged. "I do not know, my Lady, for they would not tell me." He looked thoughtful for a moment before leaning closer. "I think it would be best, Lady Stark, were you to see to the matter now."

She sighed but nodded. "If I must." She stood from her throne, her silver crown glinting in her red hair and her gown of dove grey shimmering in the candlelight. The intricately embroidered wolves edged the hem of the gown with silver thread and each image sparkled. 

"To the Queen in the North! The Queen in the North! The Queen in the North!" the crowd saluted her as she made her way down from the dais she sat upon, smiling benevolently at each guest she passed on her way out of the room and through the halls of the castle to the yard, Varys by her side. It wasn't until she stepped out into the moonlight that he stepped back, melting into the shadows until all that was left of him was the scent of his lavender perfume.

"Lady Stark!" The young woman before her curtsied low, her gown of green and gold covered by a thick cloak of furs, her honey brown curls dusted with the falling snow. Sansa watched the display with a blank face, and only allowed the slightest of smiles when the woman looked up.

"And who might you be?" she asked, indicating with her hand for the young woman to stand up straight.

The woman did as she was bid and smiled uncertainly back. "Margaery Tyrell, Lady Stark, and my grandmother Lady Olenna. We were hoping for shelter from the cold, my lady."

It was only after the young woman finished speaking that Sansa became aware of the hunched figure behind her. She squinted slightly, making out an old, wrinkled face and a strange sort of headdress. "You are a long way from Highgarden, my ladies." She frowned at the intrusion, hating how it disrupted her life despite knowing it only lasted one night. "Still, the snow is cold and winter is here; you may spend the night." She stepped back into the warmth of the castle and gestured with her hand for them to enter. "Lord Varys will show you to your chambers, as I'm throwing a party and cannot attend to you right now." She smiled insincerely.

"My ladies, follow me if you please..." Varys stepped out of the shadows and wandered down the hall, Margaery beside him in an instant. Lady Olenna moved to follow before turning back to Sansa, a single winter rose clutched in her wrinkled hand.

"For your kindness, Lady Stark." Olenna's voice was soft and warm, but her smile did not reach her eyes.

Sansa reared backward and narrowed her own eyes with scorn. "You would gift me with a rose from my own gardens, Lady Olenna?" She sneered. "How generous of you." Taking the rose, she barely gave it a thought as she tossed it unceremoniously over her shoulder and into the snow outside.

The old woman watched the action with a wry smile, and turned away to follow Varys and her granddaughter toward her chamber. Just before the shadows swallowed her hunched figure, she turned back around and spoke. "When the full moon rises, Lady Stark, you would do well to beware."

"Are you threatening me?" Sansa could hardly believe the old woman's words. "In my own castle, surrounded by my men?"

Lady Olenna merely laughed. "Winter comes in many different forms, Lady Stark, and there must always be a wolf in Winterfell." She bowed her head and began to melt into the shadows behind her. "Goodnight, my lady, and heed my words."

But Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell, Warden of the North and Queen to her people did not heed her words; she went back to her party and put any thought of the odd pair from her mind. She did not see the strange shadows following her through her castle, did not see the blue winter rose turn to ice and shatter in the snow outside. And despite the screams of the guests and the crash of an ornate goblet falling to the floor, not a sound was heard through the heavy blanket of snow which now covered the entire castle. So it began, the fateful transformation which would turn beauty to beast until the time came for the curse to be broken, time measured by the wilting winter roses in their garden.

Outside the walls of Winterfell a wolf howled as the full moon rose.


End file.
